


Let Them Eat Cake

by nostalgia



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Canon Het Relationship, F/M, Het, Ten/Reinette (mentioned), Time Travel, marie antoinette - Freeform, pre-revolutionary France
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 21:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6301159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgia/pseuds/nostalgia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and River visit pre-Revolutionary France.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Them Eat Cake

River stood impatiently still as the Doctor pinned and fussed at the fabric of the light blue robe à l'anglaise that she was wearing.

“How much longer is this going to take?” she asked.

“Almost done,” he promised. He added another pin to the front of her bodice and then stood back to admire his work. 

River hid a smile when his gaze halted for a moment at her breasts which were, indeed, quite prominent in this outfit. She turned to look in the full-length mirror on the other side of the room. 

“You look lovely,” the Doctor assured her. 

Her hair was up and diamonds sparkled on her ears and round her neck. “Given how long it took to get dressed, I would certainly hope so.” She smiled at him in the mirror. “I don't think anyone's ever spent so much time getting me _in_ to my clothes.” She picked up a fan from the dressing table. “Aren't you getting dressed up as well?”

He seemed surprised at the suggestion. “Why?”

“So that we fit in?”

“I can fit in anywhere. It's a talent. Besides,” he said, “tweed is timeless.”

River stepped close and brushed a speck of imaginary dirt from his lapel. “I think you'd look very dashing in stockings and breeches. Sexy, even.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“What's the point of having a huge wardrobe if you never use it?”

“You're using it,” he said reasonably.

She tapped his chest with her fan. “You're impossible.”

“Yes,” he said rather proudly, “I am.”

“I don't know why I put up with you.”

“Neither do I,” he said. “Are you ready for Versailles?” 

“Is it actually Versailles this time? Because last time -”

He held up his hands. “I know, I know, but that could have happened to anyone. Besides, the TARDIS managed to get the stains out of that dress, and neither of us died so I count that as a win.”

“Well, let's not dwell on it,” said River. “I've never been to the eighteenth century before, I hope it's as interesting as the travel books claim.”

“It's one of my favourites,” said the Doctor. “I wouldn't take my wife to an inferior century, would I?”

“You're not worried about me getting seduced away from you by Casanova?” 

He shook his head. “He's too skinny and his nose doesn't look right.”

“Marie Antoinette, then,” she suggested.

“Nobody is getting seduced by anyone.”

“Spoilsport.”

He offered her his arm. “If we leave now we'll be just in time to be fashionably late.”

River smiled and took his arm. 

 

The psychic paper introduced them as the British Ambassador and his wife, and this was good enough for an invitation to dinner followed by a performance of _The Marriage of Figaro_. 

“Ah,” said River, knowledgeably, “the one with the 'Figaro, Figaro, Figaro' song.”

“It's not,” said the Doctor. “That's the prequel by Rossini.”

“Well, whichever one it is I'm sure it will be lovely.”

“To be honest I've never been all that keen on the music. It's just baroque around the clock.” He grinned at her.

“Oh, Sweetie, that was terrible.”

“I thought it was quite clever,” he said with obvious disappointment.

She kissed his cheek affectionately. “At least you tried.”

As the clocks struck the hour, a pair of servants pulled open the doors to the dining-room and the various important guests began to move as a wave into the chamber.

“There are rules about who sits where,” the Doctor explained as they entered the room. “It all depends on rank and how close you are to the throne.”

“I know,” said River, stopping at a place that took her fancy. “I think I'll sit here.”

“You're not a duchess,” the Doctor pointed out. 

“So?” She sat down and gestured for him to sit next to her. 

He wavered for a moment before sitting. “We're a bit early if you want to start a revolution.”

River ignored him. “I'm starving, I hope it's not all newt's legs and lark's vomit.” She picked up a napkin and laid it over her skirt. 

“You're not supposed to eat anything until -”

“Doctor,” said River, “I'm hungry and I don't care.”

He shrugged. “Okay, but if we get beheaded it'll be all your fault.”

 

The Doctor soon fell into a conversation with his neighbour – the duke of somewhere or other, apparently – and River dedicated herself to eavesdropping as much gossip as possible from the aristocracy. She was also quite pleased with the progress of gossip about _her_ as their introductions travelled around the table. There was nothing quite like being the centre of indignant attention, after all. 

“Oh, I shouldn't think he's the same Doctor. That was years ago.”

River turned her head sharply and met the gaze of an old woman who had been discreetly staring at them. She leaned across the table. “Excuse me, what were you saying?”

“Just idle gossip, my dear,” said the woman easily.

“Tell me anyway.”

“There was a Doctor – not your one, of course – who visited Versailles while the previous King – God rest him – was on the throne.”

“And?” River prompted.

“If one were to listen to gossip – and I generally don't – then he tried to steal Madame de Pompadour from the King.”

“How shocking,” said River, her mind racing. “What happened to him?” 

“Oh, he just disappeared. It was all very strange. They say he never aged, and that he came through a mirror on horseback.”

“That's ridiculous,” said River, sitting back in her chair. 

“What is?” asked the Doctor, noticing her for the first time in half an hour.

“Nothing,” she lied easily. “It wouldn't interest you at all.”

He seemed to accept this, returning to his conversation with a shrug.

River didn't eat after that, merely toying with the delicacies on her plate. Was that visit in the Doctor's future, or had he just neglected to mention his scandalous love-affair? Was he worried that she might be jealous? Or was it just his usual secrecy about seemingly everything in his life? 

“Are you alright?” asked the Doctor, disturbing her from her thoughts.

“What?”

“Your face is all funny. Like you're upset and you don't know what to do about it.”

“I'm fine,” she said, taking a sip from her glass of wine. “Really.” She made herself smile. “I'm having a wonderful time.”

 

When the meal was over River was in no mood to spend several hours listening to music and contemplating her own insecurities.

“I don't think I could manage an opera,” she said. “It must be something I ate.”

“I thought there was something odd about that fish,” said the Doctor, who seemed to be descending into something of a mood himself. 

“Back to the TARDIS then?” she asked.

He nodded and they slipped away from the gathering aristocracy without saying any sort of farewell.

They didn't talk much on their way back through the palace, which seemed to suit both of them. Finally the Doctor opened a door and they stepped into a large, opulent bedroom that contained a total of zero police boxes. 

“Isn't this where we left the TARDIS?” asked the Doctor, looking confused.

“Obviously not. But interesting that you subconsciously wanted to find a bedroom.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Shall we?”

“Shall we what?”

“You, me, a very inviting four-poster bed. It has to be obvious even to you.”

“Oh,” he said. Then, “I think we should find the TARDIS first.” 

River felt the need for some reassurance. She pushed the Doctor against the wall and kissed him, exploring with her hands and drawing an indignant squeak from her husband.

She broke the kiss and looked at him, slightly breathless. “What's wrong?”

“Not here,” he told her, taking her hands and moving them to her sides. 

“Whyever not?” she asked lightly, her thoughts quickly filling up with suspicion and worry. Was he thinking of his former lover? Was this all a bit too close to his past for comfort?

He held the door open for her. “I just want to find the TARDIS before anyone else does.”

“It's not like anyone could steal her,” said River, quite certain he was lying. It wasn't that she minded him having other lovers – she had plenty of fun herself when he wasn't around, after all – it was the secrecy that she didn't like. Had he brought her here to wallow in memory or because he had entirely forgotten about his old flame until they arrived? She didn't like either alternative.

“Even so,” he said, stepping out into the corridor. 

River followed him in silence as he opened every likely door. She was soon distracted by the more practical worry of where the TARDIS had disappeared to. 

“All these corridors look the same,” she said, uncertain.

The Doctor shook his head. “No,” he said, “it was definitely this one. I think.” He opened a door at the very end of the corridor and, after a moment's pause, said, “River, look at this.”

She glanced through the door and then started in shock when she realised she was staring at the back of her own head. She turned without thinking and saw herself look away at the other end of the corridor. “How on Earth..?”

“No way on Earth,” said the Doctor grimly as he closed the door. “At least not in this century.” He set off back towards the heart of the palace, River following close behind. 

“I hate this sort of thing,” said River. “It makes me dizzy. Do you think it's a recursive occlusion?”

“Something like that,” he said, waving a hand. “It doesn't really matter what we call it.”

“And the TARDIS?”

“Probably left of her own accord. She hates these things as much as you do. Makes her extra dimensions itch, I should imagine.”

River stopped walking. “Are we stuck here?”

The Doctor took her arm to hurry her along. “She's never abandoned me before. I'm sure she'll come back once we've sorted things out.”

He threw open a set of ornate doors and they found themselves back in the chamber next to the dining-room. It was full of people. Anxious, confused-looking people. 

A woman in yellow hurried over to them. “Have you come from outside?” she asked, almost pleading. 

River shook her head. 

“Everything's changed,” continued the woman, “it's all wrong.”

Someone threw a chair at a window. The Doctor and River hurried over to see the results. 

“It's still intact,” said River, examining the glass. “Not even a scratch.”

The Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver from his pocket. “There's some sort of temporal freeze on it,” he told her.

“Some sort of a what?” asked the man who had thrown the chair.

“The window and the chair don't exist at the same moment,” River explained. “That window can't break because it wasn't broken at the moment it first existed in this state.”

“What?”

She sighed. “It's complicated.”

“If I could have your attention!” called someone from the other side of the room. They turned to look at the interruption. 

“That's Marie Antoinette,” said the Doctor.

“Yes, I saw her at dinner. She's looking quite calm, don't you think?”

“She's Austrian,” said the Doctor, as though this was any sort of explanation.

“The Palace of Versailles is now under temporal quarantine,” announced the Queen of France. “Unauthorised time-travel has been detected and the perpetrator must be identified. Please remain calm until this investigation is complete. Thank you for your cooperation.”

River looked at the Doctor. 

“She could still be Austrian,” he said, defensively.

 

As the crowd tried to make sense of what was happening the Doctor and River walked boldly over to the Queen, hoping to get the matter sorted out swiftly.

“You're not Marie Antoinette,” said the Doctor without preamble.

“And you are not the British Ambassador,” she replied. “The servants are justice droids, they don't fall for tricks like psychic paper.”

“Where's the real Marie Antoinette? Where are her servants?”

“Safe,” she told him. “They'll be returned to their proper time once this problem has been dealt with. Nobody will remember any of this happening.” 

“And who exactly are you?” asked River.

“Time-travellers, like you. Don't be concerned, your presence here was already a matter of historical record. You're quite welcome to stay and assist with our investigation.”

“You're the ones who folded space in on itself,” said the Doctor. 

“Yes. Please, don't be alarmed.”

“I'm not alarmed,” said the Doctor. “I'm annoyed. Who appointed you to be the time police?”

“Who appointed you?” she countered.

River cut in. “Can we have this argument later? I'd quite like to get things sorted out so we can all go home.”

Marie Antoinette nodded. “We have to identify everyone in this room. The droids are already searching for the unauthorised time-machine.”

“How very efficient,” said the Doctor rather bitchily.

 

They decided to join the search and leave the identification process to the pretend Queen and her robots. After an hour all they had learned was that the corridors did indeed all look the same. They took a break in a music room on the second floor.

“This could take all day,” said River.

The Doctor sat down at the harpsichord and played a few bars of _Should I Stay or Should I Go_. “I don't like Time Agents,” he announced, “or anyone else who thinks they can tell people what they can and can't do.”

“Anarchist,” she said, looking up at an old painting. 

“I'm not an anarchist,” he protested. “I'm not anything. It's the principle of the thing. And no, I didn't like it any better when it was the Time Lords making the rules.”

“What do you think she'll do when she finds her suspect?” asked River.

“What will she do if she doesn't?” 

River turned her head to look at him. “What do you mean by that?”

He took something from his pocket and held it out for her to examine. River took the offered object and studied it for a few moments.

“This is a detonator,” she said. “For what?”

“I stole that from our beloved Queen. Somewhere in this palace is a very big bomb.”

“She'd really destroy this place to keep history tidy?” River handed the device back to the Doctor. “She'd kill all those people?”

“Collateral damage,” he said, darkly.

“Well then,” said River, “we'd better get moving and help her.”

“Which is exactly what she wants you to do.”

“So? I don't know about you, my love, but I have no intention of dying here.”

The Doctor stood with a scowl. “Fine, but I'm not happy about it.”

River rolled her eyes. “Yes, your feelings are my main priority here. Stop being such a child and get on with it.”

“You're my wife, not my mother,” he complained. 

“And if you're a very good boy you'll get a spanking later. Now, please, let's get going.”

 

The Doctor sulked along behind River as she moved through the palace. 

“Who needs this many rooms?” she asked after half an hour of fruitless searching. “That was rhetorical, by the way.” She glanced out of a window at the palace gardens. “I can see why they had a revolution,” she said, softly. She turned to the Doctor. “Doesn't it make you angry?”

He blinked at her. “Does what make me angry?”

“All this,” she waved a hand. “All this decadence and waste.”

“Yes, but I can't fix everything. Sometimes people have to solve their own problems.”

“Easy for you to say,” said River, annoyed. 

“What does that mean?”

“Well, for a start, you've never gone hungry in your life!”

“I have so!” he protested.

“Because you were held captive, or because you were lost in a desert, or because you got so excited by something that you forgot to eat. You've never gone without because you were too poor to buy food.”

“I don't have any money -” he began.

“But you have the TARDIS, you don't need money.”

“I knew coming here was a mistake,” he said, opening a door and then slamming it shut when he found the room empty.

“I'm only saying, Doctor, that you don't always understand why people want you to change history for them. Not really, not because you've suffered like they have. There's no need to sulk about it.”

 

The Doctor started to protest further but then stopped as he opened the nearest door and looked into the room. 

“Have you found something?” asked River, argument forgotten. 

The Doctor nodded and held the door open so she could see. The room was half-filled by a complicated arrangement of mirrors and clockwork. 

“That's never a time-machine,” said River.

“Isn't it?” He stepped into the room to examine the machine. “It's a bit primitive, but it'd get the job done. What do you think? Eighteenth century? Nineteenth?”

“But the people back then didn't even have an accurate concept of time,” she said, not quite ready to believe it. 

The Doctor didn't answer, he was too absorbed in looking at the machine. He waved the sonic screwdriver over it, making impressed noises as he studied it.

River sat down in a rococo armchair. “So,” she said. “What's this I hear about you and Madame du Pompadour?”

He dropped the sonic screwdriver and looked up at her, surprised. 

“So it's true,” she said as he retrieved the screwdriver from the innards of the time-machine.

“Does it matter?” he asked. “Right now, at this moment, does it matter?”

“Perhaps not, but I wanted to ask you when you weren't likely to leave the room.” She leaned forwards in the chair. “You never mention her. Why not?” 

“You never asked,” he said, rather pathetically in River's opinion.

“I didn't know there was anything to ask _about_! Why does everything have to be a secret with you?”

“And I'm sure you've told me in detail about everyone you've ever loved,” he shot back.

“I don't pretend they never existed! I don't let you find out about them over dinner!” She took a breath and continued more quietly. “Will you be silent about me some day? Will you try to forget me?”

“I didn't forget her,” said the Doctor, opening a panel on the machine. “I remember her. Every detail. Even when I don't want to.” He glanced up at River before quickly looking away again. “Just like I'll remember you. And I won't tell everyone I meet about how wonderful you were. But that doesn't mean I won't think about you.” He worked in silence for a while before adding, “I'm sorry. I should have told you about her when you asked to come here.”

“It's alright, Sweetie,” she said with a sigh. “It's just some day I'm going to die and then -”

“Ah-ha!” he cried, jumping to his feet. 

“What is it?”

He waved the sonic screwdriver triumphantly. “I managed to get a DNA sample from a hair in the wiring. We should be able to find out who owns it easily enough.”

River smiled. “Good, I wasn't in the mood for being incinerated today.”

 

“You'll be wondering why I've gathered you all here,” said the Doctor.

The assembled aristocrats stared at him blankly.

“You've all given a sample of saliva to my friend Marie Antoinette and her droids of temporal justice.” He turned to River. “Wouldn't that be a great name for a band?”

She smiled. “Get on with it, Sweetie.”

“I can therefore announce that one of you is indeed an unauthorised time-traveller.” He paused for drama. “Specifically, the Duke of Montpensier. Or should I say, the _presumed_ Duke of Montpensier. I expect that's a fake identity.”

The man in question stepped forwards. “I am indeed the Duke of Montpensier, sir. I am proud to say that I would never take another name.”

“Okay, whatever,” said the Doctor. “Slap on the wrist, don't do it again.”

“But I must. I have seen the future and it is a dark place indeed.”

“No need for spoilers,” said River. “Though actually I'm quite fond of the future. It's much better than this century, at any rate.”

“A terrible change is coming,” said the Duke to their audience. “In the year 1789 -”

The Doctor stepped forward and hushed him. “You don't get to warn them,” he said quietly.

“On what authority?” demanded the Duke. 

“Look,” said the Doctor. “A lot of things will happen. Some of them are good and some of them are terrible, but it's not up you – or me - to stop them making their own mistakes.” 

“Marie Antoinette herself will die, murdered by her own people!”

“It happens. It already happened. It will always happen.”

Two servant-droids approached and took hold of the Duke.

“What are you going to do with him?” asked River. 

“He'll be sent to prison,” said the supposed Marie Antoinette, “in a place where he can do no harm.”

“You can have this back,” said the Doctor, throwing the detonator to her. “Don't worry, it's safe now.”

She caught it with one hand. “And you, Doctor? Should we be worrying about what _you_ might do here?”

“I leave history the way I find it. More or less.”

“It's true,” said River. “Even if I don't always agree with him.”

Marie Antoinette nodded. “Thank you for your help,” she said. “The fold in space has been repaired, you should be able to leave at your convenience.”

River looked at her husband. “Shall we go before she decides we're a danger to history after all?”

“Good idea,” he said.

 

Back in the TARDIS, River removed the diamonds she'd been wearing and handed them to the Doctor. “You'll have to help me out of this dress, Sweetie.”

He dropped the jewellery onto the dressing-table and moved to begin undressing her. “I'm sorry I didn't let you overthrow the monarchy.”

“I forgive you, this time.” She looked down at her dress. “Is this valuable?”

“Why? Do you want me to sell it to buy food for the poor?”

She glared at him, but she wasn't especially annoyed. “I just wondered if you'd mind it getting dirty.”

“I wouldn't.”

“Good,” she said, “I'm not feeling very patient.” And with that she pushed him against the back of the door and kissed him.


End file.
